


Freckled and Marked

by CharWright5



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, mate marks, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Everyone was born with a Mark, one that matched their Soul Mate's in shape, color, and size. It may not be in the same place, but it was identical in every other way, a symbol that the people with that matching Mark were perfect for each other.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Of course there were the exceptions. Some people didn't have Marks, meaning they didn't have a Soul Mate. And sometimes Marks were incomplete or messed up in some way, generally a sign that the Soul Mate was no longer amongst the living or that something had happened to them to render them incapable of finding their Soul Mate.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jean was one of the latter.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckled and Marked

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random drabble from an idea that had been stuck in my head for _days_ and I needed to get it _out_ and the only way to do that was through this random lil thing. Really, it could've been expanded upon and lengthened but...I just wanted it done and out there. So here it is, the result of reading too much JeanMarco fic and having a thing for soul mates/marks.

Everyone was born with a Mark, one that matched their Soul Mate's in shape, color, and size. It may not be in the same place, but it was identical in every other way, a symbol that the people with that matching Mark were perfect for each other.

Of course there were the exceptions. Some people didn't have Marks, meaning they didn't have a Soul Mate. And sometimes Marks were incomplete or messed up in some way, generally a sign that the Soul Mate was no longer amongst the living or that something had happened to them to render them incapable of finding their Soul Mate.

Jean was one of the latter.

His Mark—if it could even be _called_ that—was a bunch of random brown splotches on his right hip that just...just, didn't look like anything. It had bugged him for years, especially when he saw the Marks his friends had, saw how they all paired up: Mikasa and Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner, Sasha and Connie. Even his grumpy ass boss, Levi, at the book store he worked at part time had someone who matched his feather shaped Mark.

But so far, in the twenty years Jean had been on the planet, he'd yet to meet anyone who matched his brown splotches. He figured his Mark was incomplete, that something had happened to his Soul Mate and that he'd never meet them. Didn't stop him from wondering though. He spent countless nights doodling on his hip, trying to connect the splotches to see if they actually made some sorta picture, to see what exactly they were supposed to be.

All he'd come up with was a weird even bigger splotch, like a misshapen island or some shit.

Still, he'd come to accept that his Soul Mate was gone and he wasn't gonna find them so he gave up. He figured it wouldn't be all that bad. His friend Armin didn't have a Mark at all and he was perfectly content with how his life was going. And his manager at work Hanji was Mark-less, too, and beyond thrilled. Jean figured if they were okay with not having their other half, he could be, too.

Plus, when he thought about it, it had a lotta upsides to it.

For starters, he wasn't tied down to anyone, didn't have to worry about anyone else's feelings, didn't have to answer to anyone. He could do anything, go anywhere, not having to concern himself with whether someone else would be okay with it or if he needed to check in. He could think for himself and not use the pronoun “we” for everything, like his friends did so often. He was his own person, had his own feelings and opinions, had his own life. Not to mention that not being in a serious relationship meant he could date around, have one night stands, have fun flings with other people who had incomplete or even nonexistent Marks.

Which was how he came to be with Marco.

Marco was a recent hire at the book shop and Jean was immediately attracted. With that dark hair, that tan skin, and those fucking adorable freckles, Jean was drawn to him within seconds. The two had a total connection from the very beginning, able to chat about anything and everything, conversations coming easy and silences being comfortable. By the end of the week, Jean knew all about Marco's family, his hometown of Jinae, his friends Thomas, Mina, Hitch, and Marlow, and the fact that he didn't have a Mark, something that bothered him immensely. But after a long conversation with Jean over a shared Hawaiian style pizza—which wasn't ruining the pizza, no matter what Jaeger fucking said—he came to accept his status as one of the UnMarked and even came to appreciate the freedom it afforded him.

A few beers later and that freedom turned into a long night of sex back at Jean's and an offer to try a relationship.

And over countless hook-ups, over an unhealthy amount of pizza and beer, over a shared love of _Star Wars_ and all things MCU, Jean came to find himself falling for the freckled male.

Hard.

Because Marco just _got_ him. He understood that Jean had a short fuse and was prone to blow at stupid shit and had learned how to handle his mood swings and how to avoid any triggering topics. He understood that Jean had habit of speaking or acting first _then_ thinking and that he didn't mean what he'd said in a rude or hateful way, he just hadn't thought out how to word it right. He understood that for all Jean's scowling and somewhat pessimistic outlook, he wasn't a negative person and that he was actually cheery and lighthearted in normal circumstances. Yeah, Marco saw all of Jean's downsides and figured them out for what they really were. And he still stuck around.

And Marco himself? Well, he was pretty much perfect—or at least perfect for Jean. Because he was genuinely happy and optimistic. He saw the good in all people and situations, even something like not having a Mark. He saw the bright side of life and oozed sunshine and rainbows, making him the perfect complement to Jean and his more stormy attitude.

Which made it easy for the relationship-avoidant Jean to ask Marco to _officially_ be his boyfriend, for them to enter a serious, monogamous relationship, to end all the hook-ups and flings and flirtations with UnMarked or partially Marked people. Because he was definitely falling in love with Marco—if he wasn't already in love with the guy—and he was starting to believe that it was possible for people to have Soul Mates without a Mark, to have someone who is absolutely perfect for them without matching symbols on their bodies. Yeah, people without Marks got married and lived happily ever after, and sure, some of those with Marks thought the UnMarked weren't happy or were faking it, but Jean knew better. Jean knew that it _was_ possible to find that forever kinda love without some stupid picture on his skin or his partner's, because he had it. With Marco.

And it was with that thought in mind that he find himself grinning stupidly at his ceiling, come-drunk and coming down off a high caused by Marco sucking his brains out through his dick after riding him stupid. The slightly taller male himself was laying between Jean's legs, nuzzling the brown splotches at his right hip with his nose.

Jean ran his fingers through soft black hair, feeling the sweat sliding off the strands onto his skin. He truly did love this man and he didn't give a shit if his stupid chocolate-chip cookie looking Mark meant he was supposed to be with someone else. He couldn't imagine anyone being any more perfect for him than Marco and he found himself glad that Marco was UnMarked, unable to handle the thought of the raven-haired male leaving him for someone else.

Marco nestled his cheek against Jean's thigh, blinking up at him with hazy eyes, a lazy grin on his face. Jean's own eyes wandered over the other male, thumb rubbing against the freckles sprinkled across the apple of his cheek. He loved them, thought they were adorable as hell and frequently stated that fact, if for no other reason than the wrinkled nose of a disagreeing Marco was just as fucking cute.

But he also loved how Marco only seemed to have them on his cheeks and across his nose. Sure, he had a few moles sprinkled over the rest of his body—who didn't really?—but no other patches of freckles like on his face. It was odd and strange but something that was so unique that it only endeared his boyfriend to him even more.

Jean's golden eyes slid down to his half-finished Mark on his hip before flicking back up to those freckles, only to slide down again. Because now that he was really looking, his Mark didn't quite look incomplete...

“Jean?” Marco's sex roughened voice rasped out, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looked up at the leaner male. “What're you thinking about?”

It was an answer that normally would be met with a shrug and a quick “nothin'”, but not this time. Because this time he actually felt like sharing his thoughts, mainly so he could make sure he wasn't just seeing shit.

“What does my Mark look like to you?”

The confusion grew on Marco's face as he lifted his head, frowning at his boyfriend. “Mark?” he questioned innocently, genuinely having no clue what the hell the other male was talking about. “What Mark?”

Jean cocked an eyebrow, lips twisted to the side in a sarcastic “really, dude?” manner. “The one on my hip,” he reminded him in a “duh” tone, pointing to the brown flecks that ran over his hip from the top of his hipbone down near his groin. Ones that had two distinct plots of spots with four laying in a perfect line connecting them.

Like the groupings on Marco's cheeks and the four laying in a perfect line over the bridge of his nose.

Marco's dark eyes flipped down to the gestured skin, eyebrows raising in surprise before a grin slowly slid over his face. “Oh. I thought they were freckles,” he commented, thumb rubbing over them. “They _look_ like freckles, at least.” He mumbled the last part so low that Jean almost had to strain to hear it.

“Well,” Jean began lowly then paused, brushing Marco's hair back from his face. “They look like _your_ freckles really.”

The other man's head popped up so fast that Jean was surprised he didn't hurt himself. Or maybe he did and he just didn't notice, mind too focused on the shock that was clearly evident in wide dark eyes and parted lips. His mouth opened, shut, opened, shut, opened, shut, short syllables being choked out as he struggled to speak, before finally gasping out a “what?”

Without looking, the leaner male reached over to the nightstand and grabbed hold of his cell phone. It was the work of a moment to unlock it and pull up the camera, to hold Marco's chin and angle him just right so he can take a picture of his freckles, making sure they came out clear and feeling incredibly thankful that he'd went with the upgraded camera and its higher pixelation.

Satisfied with the image he'd taken, he handed the phone to his boyfriend to let him see for himself. Marco's eyes remained wide as they flicked back and forth between the smartphone screen and the leaner male's hip, comparing the images. And Jean knew exactly what he'd be looking at: his freckles perfectly matching up to the brown splotches on Jean's hip.

His Mark.

And, apparently, Marco's Mark, too.

A huff of laughter choked its way out of Marco's mouth, a wide grin spreading across his features. “Holy,” he gasped then cut himself off, letting out another disbelieving chuckle. “Wow.”

Jean couldn't help the grin that formed on his own face, didn't want to. His heart was pounding in his chest, stomach full of butterflies, and he felt like every stupid fucking cliché about love that was possible. He was flying, soaring, floating, all of it, and all because of some brown spots on his hip and his boyfriend's face.

Those fucking adorable freckles.

“Makes sense though,” Marco murmured, eyes still switching back and forth between the camera screen and Jean's hip. “I mean, I always wondered why I never had any freckles anywhere else or how I even managed to get them on my face in the first place, since I always slather myself in sunscreen.”

Jean nodded his agreement, recalling in vivid detail watching his boyfriend do that very thing during a trip to the beach with friends, before chastising Jean for not putting any on himself. The leaner male had grumbled and complained about not being five and not needing it, being met with a lengthy argument over melanoma and skin cancer and the other dangers of long-term UV exposure.

“Plus,” Marco had said. “You don't want freckles.” It was spoken with a teasing tone and a cheeky smirk, but Jean had met it with a roll of his eyes and shove of the other man's head.

“Well,” Jean started, grinning widely, fingers carding through the other man's hair once again. “Guess this proves I was right about you and me being perfect for each other.”

Marco's head snapped up once more, his smile wide, huge, splitting his face in two. Jean had never seen a smile that big on anyone's face ever and it made his heart jump in his chest then double its speed, made him feel giddy with joy that he'd been the cause of such a beautiful sight.

“What're you doing Saturday?” the lighter-haired male asked, being met with a confused frown.

“Dunno. Why?”

“'Cause I'm taking you home to introduce my parents to my Soul Mate.”

Marco practically lunged at him, phone falling from his hand as their lips collided in a kiss that was more of a smashing of the lips than anything. And as the taller male settled on top of the leaner one, their lips moving in perfect sync, their kiss resuming with more finesse, Jean wondered how the hell he ever thought he could be okay with living without his Soul Mate. Especially when his Soul Mate turned out to be Marco.


End file.
